


Endlessly Pious

by Trin303



Series: Endlessly Yours [3]
Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Heirophilia, Not so good girl Helen, Priest! John Wick, the john wick priest au no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:34:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26444974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trin303/pseuds/Trin303
Summary: Part three of the Endlessly series. Very VERY AU.Helen arrives at confession to repent her sins to Father John.
Relationships: Helen Wick/John Wick
Series: Endlessly Yours [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922308
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

“Forgive me father, for I have sinned.” 

Father John swallows, a tremor running through his body at that voice. Helen.

Helen had attended his church for years. Since her family moved to New York when she was a teenager, she had ever been a faithful and pious member of his congregation.

“It has been one week since my last confession but…”

There is a pause. Father John waits. And waits.

“But what, child?” He asks.

There is a hitch in Helen’s breath and Father John squeezes his thighs together, desperate to ignore the ache.

It is not right.

“It has been years since my last pr-proper confession, Father. I have been omitting my sins.”

“Tell me.”

“I…” She pauses again and this time he waits, “Father, I am filled with lust.. It consumes me, day and night. I cannot come into the house of the lord without… feeling myself become aroused.” She whispers the last part, “Even now….”

Divinity school had not prepared him for this.

He had counseled murderers, abusers, countless teenage masterbaters but…

Helen. This was sweet and beautiful Helen.

“And have you,” He swallows again, “acted upon these lusts?”

“Yes father.” She says, and his heart stutters. “I have touched myself. I try not to but sometimes it becomes too much and I have to. If I do not touch myself, it doesn’t go away.”

Oh. He wonders if she is still pure.

“When did you last act upon these feelings?”

“Yesterday, Father. After your sermon.”

“Here?” He asks, and it shocks him to his core.

“I excused myself to the bathroom.” She explains, “I… I felt too hot, Father. I didn’t mean to become aroused but I did. Every time you spoke, I felt myself fill with need. I was so wet I was afraid I would spill down my thighs. I could smell it.”

He bites his lip to cover a groan.

“What made you so lustful, child?”

A moment of silence before she admits, “ I… I hear your voice and I feel myself soak. I see you and I crave you and I know it’s wrong. I know it is.”

Father John realizes his mouth is open and shuts it. Oh. Oh.

There is comfort in knowing they are wrong together but oh. Is she as wet now as he is hard?

Sweet, gentle Helen. 

He had always thought her so innocent.

Would she still look innocent with those sweet pink lips wrapped around his swollen cock?

No. He couldn’t think like that. He was her priest. It was wrong. On so many levels. What was he thinking?

But she had come to him.

To confess her sins. 

Her dirty sins.

If she wanted him even a fraction of how he wanted her…

“Father?”

He reaches for the door and exits the chamber.

The atrium is empty as he crosses to the side for the confessors and opens her door.

Helen’s eyes are wide and her lips part in surprise as he slams the door behind him.

“Father…” She says again and Father John grabs her head in his hands and pulls her to her feet. He kisses her, hard.

It is so very wrong, he knows it is, but he cannot help the flush of pride that flows through him when she kisses him back. She moans into his mouth as Father John maneuvers her against the conjoining wall to where he sat only minutes before. Her hands reach up, running across his chest.

His own hands wander down from where he had harshly gripped her face. Skirting her breasts, they fall and land on her hips. He pulls her closer and grinds into her.

“Father, yes.” She moans and Father John growls.

It was wrong and forbidden but he was only human. And humans were subject to temptation and Father John knew without a doubt that had Helen offered him an apple, he would have devoured it in a bite before doing the same to her. 

He yanks the dress she wears up, the edge past her hips. He bunches it and holds the end against her as he drops to his knees.

It is dark in the confessional but her panties are a pale pink and soaked with arousal.

With a tug, they fall down her legs and onto the floor. Hungrily, he presses his mouth to her center. She is sweet and tangy and delicious. He licks her once, then twice.

She whimpers and he feels like God.

How sacrilegious.

But he cannot bring himself to care. 

He looks up at her from his knees. There are much better things to worship than abstract concepts and theories of creation.

He swallows and nips at her thigh.

“Three Hail Mary’s.” 

Her eyes fluttered shut as he continued to nibble at her flesh.

“Hail Mary, fully of grace!” She shrieks as he grazes his teeth along her folds. “The Lord is with thee… blessed… blessed art thou amongst women! Oh!” He sucks her clit into his mouth, rolling it along his tongue, “And… blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary! Mother of God!” She moans, “Gooooddddddd! Oh!”

“Keep going.” He orders, sucking her, his fingers dancing at her entrance.

“Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.”

“Again.”

“Hail Mary, Full of grace… father, yes!” His finger pushes inside her, exploring her most private places. “ The Lord is with thee…” She stutters out the prayer, crying out as he slips his middle finger inside her at the amen.

“Again.”

He kisses her clit, and stands as she begins again. “Hail Mary, full of grace.” His fingers curl inside her and she looks up at him, so fucking desperate. “The Lord is with thee.“ Her hand tangles in his hair, "blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus Christ!” She shrieks as his fingers tease her. His thumb presses on her clit and she gasps, eyes fluttering shut.

“Don’t stop,” he flicks her clit again and she cries out.

“Please…” she means as his lips ghosts hers yet again. “Inside me…”

“Not until you finish your penance.”

Helen whimpers, “I-I don’t remember where…”

“Holy Mary.”

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners.”

Father John removes his hand, stepping back.

He undoes his belt.

He knows it’s wrong even before taking himself out but he is so heavy. This woman, who has given him countless hours of hard-on, wants him. Perhaps she has been possessed but he cannot being himself to care as she readily pants out the last of our prayer.

“Now and at the the hour of our death. Amen.”

She reaches for him as she finishes her prayer, wrapping her arms around his neck. He lifts her off the ground, pinning her to the wall.

“I’ve wanted you for so long.”

She whimpers as he angles himself against her opening and slides his length inside her.

“Every Sunday, for years,” he rolls his hips until he is buried to the hilt, “watching you drop to your knees, saying prayers to God when you should have been worshipping me.”

It’s all wrong. A life of being pious only to choose hell now. He damns himself more with every thrust inside her but he finds no longer cares.

Maybe he will resign. Leave the church and fuck her every night without exception.

Or maybe he will stay in the fold and keep her like a secret. Fuck her in confessionals and the dark corners of the cathedral. Use her body for his own relief only to shake her hand as she leaves church each Sunday.

Endless opportunities because he has chosen heaven on earth at the cost of a lifetime of Inferno.

“Father…” she moans, clawing at his back as he grunts, moving his hips in a thousand new ways. “Please…”

“Dirty girl, seducing a priest? Do you deserve to cum, Helen? Bouncing on your Father’s cock while in the house of the lord? That doesn’t sound like the deeds of a pious Christian woman.”

She only cries out in response, every sound bringing him farther from God and closer to religion. 

She clenches around him, her mouth falling to his shoulder and biting the cloth there to keep from screaming as she comes undone. Helen thrashes in his arms as he feels himself join her.

He spills inside of her with a groan, lifting his head to a God he no longer can claim because what god would keep him from feeling this pleasure?

Father John leans into her, thrusting through the last of his orgasm, watching as she quakes around him. Her arms tighten and she buries her head in the crevice of his neck while she pants out her breath.

If he burns for his sins, she will burn at his side.


	2. Communion

She wasn’t at Mass. He had never once known Helen to miss it but as he looked out over the congregation and performed communion, she was not among them.

Father John finds himself torn between concern, that he has scared her off, and the unfamiliar swell of anger. 

Was she hiding from him? She hadn't seemed ashamed when he was buried deep inside of her.

It is Father Santino’s night to stay late and offer an ear to stragglers and those who have come to pray in private but John offers to take it. He has nothing else to do and, maybe, it will help him keep his mind off his greatest sin.

It works for a little while.

And then he sees her.

She is kneeling in her usual pew, eyes closed and hands clasped together in prayer.

His Helen.

The cathedral is largely empty and Father John makes his way to where she kneels. He slips in behind her and takes a seat on the pew, just behind where she kneels.

Her lead lifts and turns to the side. She can only see his leg but the proximity is enough. His little lamb swallows.

“Hello Father.”

“You weren’t at Mass today.” He’s not sure if he means it as an accusation but he knows that is how it sounds.

“I wasn’t sure if I was welcome in the house of the Lord.”

Father John hums, “Why wouldn’t you be, child?”

She looks around before whispering to him, “I have sinned!”

“Yes.”

Sweet Helen looks distressed.

He amends, "we are all sinners in the eyes of God. What matters is repentance."

"I'm… not sure that I do. Repent."

“There are two parts of penance. I wonder which has you lost. Is it contrition, that you are not sorry for your action?” He leans forward so that his head is inches from hers and he whispers in her ear, “Or is it intent? Do you intend to sin again, sweet Helen?”

Her entire body tenses prettily and, oh, she is shaking. With fear, he wonders, or need? That delights him far more than it should.

He will have her again.

“Hmm?” He says, when she does not reply. Father John does not bother to even look around as he reaches out and touches her back. She startles but his hand keeps moving, sliding around and stopping only when he reaches her breast, “I think that it’s both. I think you aren’t sorry. And I think you want to do it again.”

“We can’t!” Helen whimpers, frantically looking around. There is only one other person in the sanctuary. An elderly woman several pews ahead of them. She is not looking at them but it still makes her heart race.

“We already did.” He taunts, squeezing her heavy tit. “Perhaps we should go back and I can take your confession again.” He eyes the confessional where he had first kissed her. Where he had fingered her until she was nearly weeping and then fucked her inside the stall. “But then… you did miss Mass today. That was very naughty of you.”

His hand trails up, over her chest, his fingers grazing her throat until they reach her mouth. He pushes two fingers against her lips until she opens her mouth and he stuffs them inside. Her breath hitches and then he feels her sucking on his digits

He tears them from her mouth and there is a faint pop. Helen quickly looks around and Father John smirks. Misses Edie can barely hear a sermon with him speaking into a microphone. She certainly won’t hear Helen greedily sucking his fingers or the sound of Father John removing them from her mouth.

“Come with me.” He tells her, grabbing her arm and pulling her to her feet. He remembers what he told her just last Sunday, as he thrust into her, _“Every Sunday, for years, watching you drop to your knees, saying prayers to God when you should have been worshipping_ me.”

He meant it.

Her knees were not meant for God.

Father John keeps a hand around her arm as he pulls her to the back, where the offices are. Where Priests offer council or work on sermons and study the Bible in peace.

It was also where the sacrament was kept.

He drags Helen inside the room and closes the door behind them.

Last Sunday, she had worn a simple yet modest dress. Today, she wears a blouse and slacks. He wonders if she thinks pants will slow him down.

Father John goes to the cabinet and enters the code to unlock it.

“You missed Mass.” He tells her again.

“Yes.”

He sets the wine on the table next to him without turning around. “Yes, who?”

Her breath hitches. “Yes, father.”

Good girl.

Father John takes out a single communion wafer and turns to face Helen.

She is pink and flushed and looks so damn innocent. He knows first hand that she looks innocent even as she comes, bouncing on his cock.

“Do you believe in the power of transubstantiation, Helen? That this little wafer can become the body of Christ?”

“Of course.” he gives her a pointed look and Helen adds, “Father.”

He gives her a small smile in approval as he steps into her space. Sweet Helen backs up until her back has hit the door. 

“It’s strange, isn’t it? The desire inside of us for flesh. We act so pious, so pure, and then we swallow. Don’t we, Helen?”

She opens her mouth to respond and Father John slips the wafer into her mouth, pressing it down into her tongue. It starts to dissolve but his finger doesn’t move.

Helen finds she can barely breathe as Father John watches her.

And then, he removes his finger and turns quickly.

She gasps on a breath, shaking as she swallows the wafer down before she turns her attention to Father John.

He has opened the sacramental wine and is drinking straight from the bottle.

And he turns, closing the distance between them. He grabs her chin and lifts her head and fuses their mouths together. Suddenly, wine spills from his mouth and into hers. It is sweet and warm and she finds herself moaning at the rich taste. She swallows it down but his tongue pushes in and he tastes of wine and divinity.

His lips pull back and Helen whines at the loss.

Father John runs a thumb over her lips and then his hands stop on her shoulders.

He pushes her down until she lands on her knees.

“What do you do after communion?” He asks her as her gaze rests on the bulge of his pants.

His sweet, devout girl knows the answer.

 _You pray_.

Helen reaches inside his pants and pulls out his cock.

Her cheeks are flushed but she does not hesitate to run her thumb along the tip, feeling the bit of precum that has gathered at the tip. She bites her lip as she runs a hand up his length and back down, feeling how hard he is. How hot his length is in her hand.

She leans forward and her tongue darts out, licking the head.

He fights back the urge to groan at the sight.

Father John pushes her hair from her face, giving him a better line of sight, as sweet Helen drags her tongue from his tip to his base. Then she does it again, looking up at him with wide eyes.

How could he have gone a whole week without her?

Helen opens her mouth curiously and lets his cock slip between her lips.

It’s a new sensation. His warm, salty taste. The fullness that has invaded her mouth. 

She leans forward more, taking him deeper, while one hand rubs at his base. She hums a soft moan and the vibrations nearly stagger him. John tangles his hands in her hair, guiding her up and down his length.

Sweet Helen is bobbing up and down on his cock. She desperately tries to take him deeper and nearly gags on his length. Father John growls and holds her head in place as she chokes on him.

She grows braver after that, swallowing down the best she can and… fuck. He can put up with eternity in Hell for this little piece of Heaven. He can take being flayed and burned and whatever other tournaments the Devil will hold for him so long as he can keep this memory…

Helen on her knees, choking on his length while desperately trying to please him.

It would be more than worth it.

He feels his cock aching with the need to come but he is nowhere near finished with his little lamb.

He pulls her head back and Helen, again, whines at the loss, looking up at him in confusion.

Father John pulls on her hair, guiding her back up to her feet. She scrambles to do as he directs and John kisses her harshly. He doesn’t care that he can taste himself on her lips, her tongue. His own precum is mixed with wine in her mouth and he savors it as he guides her across the room to his desk. 

He lets go of her head long enough to pull her shirt up and she raises her arms to allow him to push it over. He reaches around and unclips her bra, allowing it to fall to the floor. 

Last time, she had been wearing a dress. He had only pushed it up, bunching it at her waist as he pummeled into her in that tiny confessional booth. He had not had the space or the time to undress her properly.

This time, he would use the space to his advantage.

His hands itch to touch her breasts, and he swears they will, but he is not done.

Father John turns Helen to face his desk. A Bible sits closed on it and he bends her down, placing a hand on either side of the book.

“Open it.” He tells her, kneeling down to help ease her pants off. “First Corinthians: Chapter 6.” She steps out of the pants and underwear as she shakily searches for the chapter indicated. 

She opens to the page and Father John to check.

He hums in approval and kisses her neck. His hand reaches around to her hot cunt. It’s soaking and he smiles. “Verse eighteen. Read it until the end.”

Helen makes a noise of protest and John removes his hand from her pussy.

“Ah!” She cries, looking back at him.

“Read.” He tells her and Helen forces herself to look back at the tiny text. She finds the passage and begins to read:

“Flee,” She says and Father John’s hand immediately resumes its ministrations, “f-flee from sexual immorality.” She reads and her sweet voice is so strained, “A-all other sins a person… a person commits! Ah!”

John angles his cock to her slick entrance and pushes in slowly.

“Keep going.” He tells her, rocking in inch by inch.

“All other sins a person commits are outside the body, b-but whoever sins sexually,” Her voice gets higher as he slides the rest of the way inside her, filling her up with his pulsing cock, “s-sins against their own body.”

John keeps rolling his hips slowly. He has to wait. To give her time to adjust, to warm up. If he goes too fast, he will surely spill inside her. 

“Do you not know that your bodies are temples,” she gasps as his hands glide up her torso to stop at her breasts. His palms cover her and he squeezes the flesh, “T-temples of the Holy Spirit.” His thumbs stroke her hard nipples and she gasps.

“Keep going.” He hisses to her as she starts to become distracted.

“The Holy Spirit, who-- who is in you….”

“ _I’m_ in you.” John murmurs.

“Whom-- whom you have received from God? You are not your own…”

“No.” John agrees and his teeth nip at her neck, “You’re mine.”

“A-and you were bought at a price. Therefore honor G-God with your bodies.” She finishes and John thrusts into her hard. Helen cries out.

His fingers sink deeper into her breasts, squeezing and groping at her tender flesh.

“Good girl.” Father John tells her, “Is that what you’re doing right now? Are you honoring God with your body?”

She whimpers and he nips at her again with his teeth.

“Y-yes.”

“Yes who?”

“Yes Father!” 

He growls in her ear, “They tell you to honor God.” His voice is raspy as drops one hand from her tits. He reaches between them and wraps it around her thigh, lifting it off the ground and forcing Helen to collapse on the table, on the Bible. “They tell you to honor God, when they should be honoring _you_.”

He uses the new angle to thrust deeper inside her hot cunt. 

She cries out and John leans over, holding his body against her. “Makes me almost want to strip you naked in front of the entire congregation. Show them the most perfect creation in existence. They’ll pray to your cunt and write psalms about your perfect tits.”

She writhes in his arms, desperately pushing back with her hips. He doesn’t stop.

“But they’re all mine, aren’t they, Helen? My cunt to worship. My tits to praise. My lips to go between reading scripture and choking on my cock.”

And, again, he is struck by how long he has lived without this. How long he spent honoring vows that kept him celibate, where the only release was his hand. When this soaking pussy was waiting for him the whole time.

He had believed in God his entire life.

But now he was unsure if he believed in anything other than Helen.

What God would keep this from him?

What God would think to keep _her_ from him?

Hell, which had, for a lifetime, kept him on a straight and narrow path could not measure up to the torture of the years he had spent watching her, knowing now that he could have had her, but being denied?

At once, Father John is resolved. Whether he stays in the church or leaves is irrelevant. He will be keeping Helen either way.

She clenches around him, crying out as her orgasm consumes her. She thrashes back and John holds her against him, feeling every quake and adjustment as she sobs in her release. John grunts and feels his seed spill inside her and he is without regret.

Sweet Helen is gasping, propped over the Bible, his cock still spilling inside of her.

And at once, Father John knows, he is consigned to damnation.

And he cannot bring himself to care.


End file.
